Life in a Dead World
by MissMusic17
Summary: In 2012, a series of nuclear reactions all but wipes out the human race. Will the survivors be able to adapt in this new world?
1. Chapter One  Prologue

**A/N- I'm starting this story as a treat to myself for finishing **_**A Tale of Yet Another Red Haired Wonder.**_** I've been a good girl; I'm going to reward myself.**

**Okay, the idea for this story is a combination of many things. One is an old drawing I found from when I was in third grade. C: It's also from the legend of the 2012 apocalypse, (which I don't believe in, but is really cool anyway), a TV series called **_**The Colony,**_** assorted pieces of cover art for movies, Chernobyl, and my friend KD, who is extremely violent. **

**Just wanted to give credit where due. C: Let's get started!**

_**THIS IS FOR YOU, KD! **_

Chapter One – Prologue

I hated my job. I wish I could just stay home with Alec and Rachel, but we needed the money. As much as I despised working in an office, I knew that it provided more money than we needed, which was prefect. I wanted Alec to have every luxury. My little boy would have everything, even if he was only two at the moment. And Rachel. We especially needed a well-paid job if she was going to be a stay-at-home mom.

Still, sitting at a computer working on projects I couldn't care less about bored me out of my mind.

I glanced at my watch, hoping it was late enough to take my lunch break. Luckily, it was. I needed to get out of this cramped cubicle. Maybe a steak or something from the diner across the street would get me out of this self-pitying mood. Shutting off my computer, I stood up and stretched out my legs, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. I left, taking the elevator down six levels to the ground floor, where I was assaulted by a wave of people who were waiting for the elevator. I was used to this by now, though, as the office I worked at was for a popular magazine. People were coming by with stories and photos 24/7.

I nimbly slipped out of the now-crowded elevator, and left, crossing the crowded city street to my favorite eatery. This was the one of the only things I liked about working here; I was so near to a good restaurant. I always ate lunch here.

I was just about to open the door when I heard a huge explosion and screams, followed by the sound of screeching tires. I turned toward the noise, and saw that the most of the cars on this street had pulled over, and the drivers were running for cover in buildings and alleyways, or behind the halted cars.

Running from the flames that were streaming out from the car whose gas tank had blown, the fire spreading to the other vehicles with deadly speed.

Running from the bullets zinging through the air.

Running from the insane psychopath who was yelling at the top of his lungs and shooting at us.

"LEAVE WHILE YOU STILL CAN! THE WORLD IS ENDING! SAVE YOURSELVES!"

Even as I ducked behind a car, trying to escape the machine gun held in his hand, I could appreciate the irony. A man was yelling at us to save ourselves, and yet he was setting cars on fire and shooting at innocent civilians. What was going on here?

I poked my head over to the side, trying to at least see what this madman looked like.

He had yellowing hair that hung limply on dead looking skull. He was gaunt and thin, but seemed to have a lot of energy for a seemingly starved person. His fingers and arms were bent strangely, not broken but not natural either. The man seemed deformed.

And he was still yelling and shooting at everybody who got within range.

"RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! THEY'RE COMING FOR YOU! TRUST NOBODY!"

I wondered who 'they' were. Probably caretakers at the insane asylum this wacko had escaped from. I was about to poke my head out for another look but pulled back as a spray of bullets hit the car. When was this guy going to run out of ammo? Already, about four people had been shot, and I knew that for a fact at least one of them was dead. I could see the body from where I was crouching behind the abandoned car.

After a minute or two without him shooting at the car, I peeped out again, wanting another look.

And my jaw blossomed with sudden agony.

'_Well, you know, curiosity did kill the cat._' I thought to myself as I lay still on the asphalt of the city street. '_I hope Rachel and Alec will at least be okay._'

I couldn't move, it was far too painful. I slowly started to die, not from the actual bullet, but from the swelling. There was so much of it, and blood as well, that I couldn't breathe.

The world slowly started to go black as I died, listening to the shouts and screams as the man continued to shoot, continued to kill everybody he could.


	2. Chapter Two Reminiscence

**A/N- Please review! I would love feedback. C:**

Chapter Two - Reminiscence

It all started about two years ago. Two years. That was all it took for the human race to kill itself out. After two thousand and twelve years of building, destroying took a skimpy two years. Chernobyl wasn't even a speck compared to what had happened. It was a series of chain-reaction nuclear 'accidents.' Accidents that could have been prevented, if we had not been so arrogant. But humans had grown lazy and confident. We didn't take the proper precautions, and now we essentially killed ourselves. The radiation drove most people mad, and they grew convinced that they should kill everybody else. Very few of us saw what was happening before it was too late, and of those, even fewer survived the first couple months. After two years, most of the human race is extinct, the result of a free-for-all killing massacre.

And those who survived the disaster may not last much longer.


	3. Chapter Three History Melanie

**A/N- So, school's starting up soon. 8 days to be exact. I'm on countdown. I might not be able to update as much, but I'm sorry to say most of my updating issues are named Lazy. I'm working on consistency, though; I'm working on it.**

**In the meantime, I wanted to say- OMG LOOK! A BUTTERFLY!**

**What was I talking about again?**

Chapter Three – History- Melanie

"Hey, sweetie, we'll be back in about an hour, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." I answered. She knew I hated when she called me sweetie. I was not sweet. I was evil, conspiring, and a risk-taker, but I was most certainly not, by anybody's definition, sweet.

I had the whole camper to myself now. Both parents gone out to the department store I wanted no part of, and my older brother was in collage, out of state. I was alone, in a camper, twenty minutes into the woods, my only companion a cat named Fidget.

What shall I blow up today?

Well, my mom was always bugging me to clean out Fidget's litterbox.

Pretty soon, I was putting a lighter to a bag of cat turds. It made a satisfying amount of smoke. Heading back to the camper two hours later, I wondered where my parents were. They weren't the type to be late for anything. In fact, they were often early. This worried me, even if I was the indestructible Melanie.

I waited in that camper for two weeks. After two days, I started to ration the food, and, being meant to last three for seven days, I was fine. Fidget ran out of cat food, but he didn't need it that much. That cat had enough flab to last him a month.

After roughly fourteen days, more or less, I finally accepted that they weren't going to come back.

I packed a backpack of everything I could take from the camper, which wasn't much. I was about to hike up towards the nearest town, but some instinct sent me trekking through the woods, up north, away from people.


	4. Chapter Four History Titus

**A/N- Let's have a random song interlude! Random songs are fun!**

**At the drive in**

**In the old man's Ford **

**Behind the bushes**

**Until I'm screamin' for more**

**Down the basement**

**Lock the cellar door **

**And baby**

**Talk dirty to me.**

**Talk Dirty To Me- Poison**

Chapter Four – History – Titus

I was back in juvie again. Ugh.

I hated this place, but really, you can't blame me. Yes, I'm a thief. And a pickpocket. But you know what else, my mother is an addict, and I need to get money for both of us. I can't get enough money for us both in an honest job, since she was incapable of working, and I haven't been in school since third grade, when I was kicked out for hitting a teacher.

It's a miracle that Child Services hasn't caught up to us yet.

Wait, scratch that. It was me. I was good. I could forge my mothers' signature without pause, could lie on the spot, and knew all the best ways to stay unnoticed. I knew these city streets like the back of my hand, knew all the back alleyways, weak spots, and sheltered areas. I knew the places where my mother could stay for a while, immoble as she was, until we had to move on.

But, if you are in the middle of a crowded shopping mall, easily snatching a wallet with practiced fingers, you're gonna get caught if out of nowhere you get shoved in the back by a shopper and fall on your victim.

If.

Not that that would ever happen to me. I was infallible.

Suddenly, I heard a boom somewhere in the building. The ceiling shook a little, and I took the initiative to escape, launching across the room with enough power to break the lock. I was pretty strong, but I must admit, this was a personal record.

I heard yells, accompanied by bullets, a pistol from the sound of it. I sprinted down the hallway, toward the noise. I was curious.

Hurtling around a corner, I skidded to a stop, surprised. There was a skinny girl with stringy hair and a twisted-up spine, firing at anybody close enough, meaning the security guards trying to subdue her. She was screeching, just screeching wordlessly, a sound full of fear and anger.

I turned and ran. I had never seen anything like this before, anybody so unnatural, so dead looking, and yet so alive. The girl was full of emotion and adrenaline. It had me scared silly.

After a minute or two, I found an office-like room that luckily had a window. I was able smash it and jump the ten-foot drop. I hit the ground running as fast as I could. Running the two miles to the city, until I rounded the crest of a hill about a quarter mile away and stopped in my tracks.

I was stunned. The city had been flattened. It looked like it had been bombed, the buildings all collapsed and in ruin, the smoke and ash lazily floating through the air. Cars were hollow shells, lying abandoned in the streets, and a few people wandered through the wreckage, looking lost.

I slowly sunk to my knees. What had happened? Thousands, killed. My home, the only place I knew, was up in smoke.

I let a single tear roll down my cheek, then slowly stood up, spun on my heel, and walked away in the opposite direction.


	5. Chapter Five History Twins Kay and Kenji

**A/N- Did you know that if you learn how to play an instrument, it can improve your ability to learn a new language and your science and math skills?**

**I love Google. ^.^**

Chapter Five – History – Twins – Kay and Kenji

I hated playing hide-and-seek. We were too old for this. But Kenji, being the guy he is, liked beating me. He liked to win, to outsmart me, as rare as that was. I didn't make mistakes.

I was getting confused though. I had been sitting in this tree for half an hour or so, and he hadn't even passed below me. A little bit worried, I slid easily down the trunk and started yelling as loud as I could.

"KENJI! WHERE ON EARTH ARE YOU?"

"Kay?"

I heard him, nearly whimpering, and followed the noise to the creek. We were out messing around in the park, which was pretty big and nice for such a small town. Kenji was sitting on a rock in the shallow creek, which was only two inches deep, and his knees were skinned up pretty bad. Blood was dripping down his legs.

"Can you walk?"

He shrugged. "Probably, but it hurts really bad. I can't bend my knees."

I sloshed through the crystal-clear water, and held out my hand. He took it, and I pulled him so he was standing.

"You sure you can't?"

He sighed. "Not the whole way home, no."

"Here, I'll carry you piggyback." I told him. He grabbed my neck, and I hooked my arms through his legs. I was used to this, as we used to do it all the time a few years ago. I was only a minute or two older than him, but I was still the older sister.

I turned around and started the walk home, 'Ji's knees bleeding all over my shirt, but I didn't really care. He was my brother.

* * *

After dinner, we were lying on the floor of his bedroom, Kenji's legs practically mummified. Our mom had gone overboard, but oh well. Better safe than sorry. We were silent, ears pressed to the wood of the floorboards, listening.

"Jon, what did I tell you about leaving the kids alone in the park? They could've been kidnapped, or gotten an arm broken, or gotten lost!"

"Well, what did you want me too do? I can't keep them in my sight all day long!"

Our dad's voice was slurred. He must have been drinking again. Mom tried to stop him, but he always managed to find beer somewhere or other.

"That's exactly what I expected! I can't have you endangering our children like this!" Mom sounded furious.

"Linda, -"

"Maybe you should just leave! I can handle this much better without you!"

The yelling escalated, and we sat up, not wanting to hear any more, but we couldn't make the shouts disappear.

"We have to leave." Kenji said.

I nodded to him, not wanting anything more than to get out of this house, to get away from the yells.

"Pack a bag." I told him, getting up and running to my room, stuffing a backpack with a bunch of random clothes. I took Mr. Stuffles, my bear, too. I went into the hall, seeing 'Ji waiting for me, with his school bag over his shoulder. I made a 'shhh' sign to him, and motioned for him to follow. We tiptoed our way down the stairs and into the kitchen. We were right next to the living room, where the shouts had turned for the worse. I heard several new words that I didn't know what they meant, but I knew it couldn't be good.

I put my bag on the countertop, and Kenji put his down too. I leaned in and whispered to him, "Get some food or something. We're going to be gone for a while."

He nodded, and opened the pantry, shoving whatever he could into the bag. He also took a few twenty-dollar bills out of Dad's wallet, shoving the bills into his pocket. I gave him a thumbs-up. It was a good idea. What if we ran out of food?

I crawled up on the counter, and I stood on it so I could reach the high cabinets that we weren't supposed to get into. I grabbed the lighter, which I had never used before, but I had seen Mom use it to start fires, and we might want a campfire or something.

I jumped down, and opening the junk drawer, I took some duct tape and scissors. I filled the extra space in my backpack with bottled water and canned ravioli and soup.

I shouldered my bag and motioned to 'Ji. We had to leave before they noticed us. I opened the door as quietly as possible and we slipped silently into the night.

We went back to the woods. We knew them by heart, our second, and now only, home.

'Ji and I disappeared into the shadows of the night, ghosts, there one moment, gone the next.


	6. Chapter Six History Acel

**A/N- I'm loving the OC's! I feel so powerful, creating people, giving them pasts and personalities. MUWAHAHAHAHAHA I AM ALL-POWERFUL! **

**Actually I'm not. Oh well.**

**Please review! I love opinions!**

Chapter Six - History - Acel

I positively hated these business trips. Father didn't really need me along, he just wants to show me off. Like I'm some sort of jewel, or maybe a well-trained dog. Well, I'm not. I'm a person, and I have feelings.

But it's not like I have a choice, so I was sitting in the backseat of the limo, while we drove out to a suburb of the city to see a potential client that I really didn't care about.

"Acel, stop pouting."

Oh Father. "I'm not pouting. I'm simply choosing not to fill the minutes with meaningless chatter."

He sighed. Ha. "Acel-"

"Father-"

He plowed on. Brave man. "We need this. You cannot be sullen and angry at this meeting. It will not sit well with the clients."

I snorted. "'We need this.' Like we needed every other meaningless meeting? No, we don't need this. And my behavior will not determine their decision either way."

He hardened, his face turning flinty. "Acel, stop this. It isn't befitting the son of a corporate businessman."

I was silent, deciding to let it go. Neither of us was going to back down; it would just be a waste of time and breath.

We pulled up to the mansion a few minutes later. It was nearby, but traffic was heavy today. Father hated driving to the clients. He preferred that they come to him, but this was a man who was actually ricer than he was, and Father wanted to earn his approval.

As I was getting out of the limo, I felt the earth shake, and there was a boom so loud that it made the air shudder. I fell, skinning my knees and hands. The earth was silent as the grave, and my brains were scrambled from the shock. I looked at my hands curiously, knowing it was blood, but I had never bled before. It was an odd sensation.

After a moment or two, I heard yells and screams. I took this as a sign that I should probably find out if Father was okay.

"Father?"

Nothing.

I started to panic.

"Father? _Father? _Where are you?"

I crawled over to the limo, noticing that it had tipped over.

Oh, God, no.

I stood shakily, and stumbled to the other side. My fears were confirmed. The limo had fallen on him. My father was trapped underneath the car, legs broken, eyes shut. I wasn't sure if he was still alive or not.

"Father?" I whimpered.

He didn't answer. I walked up to the mansion, and knocked on the door.

"Excuse me, ma'am, can you call 911? My father is pinned underneath the limo."

* * *

The explosion had been a bomb, set off in the city. We had been far enough away that we escaped the worst of it. Our flat had been destroyed, though, so Father rented an apartment in the suburbs. For me, though. He was in the hospital, with broken legs and a little bit of internal bleeding.

The doctors said he'd recover, though.

About four days after the bombing, I heard yelling downstairs, on the bottom floor.

"SOMEBODY CALL THE POLICE!"

"RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"

"GET OUT OF HERE! EVERYBODY LEAVE!"

I didn't bother to go down and investigate. I walked out to the elevator, and took it up to the top floor. From there I took one flight of stairs up to the attic, which seemed to be used for storage. I quickly found a cardboard box, and gingerly stepped into it.

Bleh. The filthy thing was full of blankets, and I was crouching. I couldn't believe myself, crouching in a box of cobwebby blankets.

After about ten minutes, I was about to get out of the disgusting thing and go back to the apartment, when I heard footsteps. Somebody was in the attic with me.

I peeked through the flap, being careful not to move anything but my eyes.

It was a middle-aged guy with a bloody knife. Terrific. I was trapped in a hotel attic with a likely murderer.

Let's just say that the next half hour was nerve-wracking. And later, when he finally left, I stayed in that disgusting box for another ten minutes before getting out, and slowly walked into the elevator and down into the streets.

I found a convenience store, and went inside, only to see that the owners had been killed, blood pooling on the floor. I locked the doors and left the bodies where they were, to keep other people from coming in. Then I went into the janitors closet, made a makeshift bed of towels, and settled in for a long wait.

Logic said that this was an isolated incident. Instinct told me to hunker down and hide, as this was only the beginning.

And, for the first time in my life, I ignored logic.


	7. Chapter Seven History Eryn

**A/N- I am on a roll! This is like, my fifth update in three days! I cannot stop! *****cue lucky song*******

**They call me heartbreaker, I don't wanna deceive ya.**

**If ya fall for me, I'm not easy to please,**

**I might tear you apart, told ya the start, baby, from the start!**

**I'm only gonna break, break ya, break, break ya heart! x4**

**-Break Your Heart by Taio Cruz ft. Ludacris**

**I swear, every time that song plays, something good happens! This time, you guys will get an extra-long chapter!**

Chapter Seven – History – Eryn

I missed them so much. I could still remember the day it happened. It may as well have been an hour ago, it was so clear in my head.

* * *

We had been out at Toys R Us, as we lived just two streets away, I had just gotten my allowance, and the kids would never, ever say no to new toys.

The kids. My little siblings. My responsibility, my life, really. I loved them to death.

It was hard to keep track of all three of them at first, but I was used to it now. I had Chloe in the cart, since she was still small enough for it, 5 years old. Neo was the second oldest after me, at age 8. He walked alongside, with 6-year-old Alicea holding his hand. Neo acted like he didn't want to hold her hand, but I knew that he loved her.

I was their older sister, but I may as well have been their mother. Our mom had died from cancer four years ago, and Dad loved us to bits, but he worked full-time, having to provide money for four children. He wasn't around much, and when he was actually home, he was asleep.

After Mom had died, when I was 8, I became a mom. I was a second-grader, but that didn't really matter. I loved my brother and sisters, and I took care of them. I found a good daycare for the kids and picked them up on the walk home. I taught myself to cook. I was the one who tucked them in at night, put a Band-Aid and a kiss on cuts, and took them shopping when they needed new clothes.

I had to grow up fast. I wasn't a kid for very long.

I didn't really mind much, though. They were my family. I'd do anything for these kids.

"Eryn?" said Chloe, "Can we look at the Barbies?"

I smiled at her. My little angel. "Sure, sweetie."

Neo didn't so much make a face. I knew that he was obsessed with Transformers, but he was patient. He knew I'd take him over to that section soon. In the meantime, Neo would wait uncomplainingly as Chloe and Alicea squealed over the Barbies.

I was so proud of him. Most kids would whine.

I took a peek in my wallet. Good, I had enough that they could each get something, and probably stop at the ice-cream shop afterwards too.

Around an hour later, we were walking out, me carrying a bag containing an Ironhide action figure, a tennis-player Barbie, and a new Bratz.

"Do you guys want to get some ice cream?" I asked. I was soon met by yells of approval.

The shop was straight across the street, which was fairly deserted this time of day. I stopped us at the curb and turned to Alicea. I had entered her and Chole into a program called Safety Town. I'd drop them off every day after school, and they'd learn things like how to cross a road, and the importance of seatbelts. It was a good program, and I was friends with one of the helpers. I knew they were in good hands.

"Alicea, can you tell me how to cross the street? I forgot." I said, giving her a small smile.

"Stop, look and listen, before you cross the street. Use your eyes, use your ears, and then you use your feet." she recited, looking proud for remembering something I apparently hadn't.

I made an 'oh' face. "Chloe, do you want to do the look?"

She nodded, and made a show of twisting both ways to see each end of the street, arms and blonde hair swishing back and forth. "Nothing." she told me. "Hey Neo, you do listen!"

"Okay." he said, smiling. We all fell silent, and he cocked his head dramatically. "Nope, I don't hear any cars."

I ruffled his hair. "Lead the way!" I told him, giving Neo permission to lead us across the street now that we had proven it to be safe.

It was little things like this that really defined childhood. The little things that you take time to do mean more than you think. They show you care.

Walking into the ice cream shop, I was glad to see that it was empty, except for an older man, who was eating a vanilla cone. Even the elderly enjoy ice creamy goodness.

"Aren't you Ashton's kids?" he said, seeing us walk in.

Ashton was our dad. This was a pretty small town. The Toys R Us was the biggest store we had, the second-biggest being a McDonalds. It was mostly residential.

I smiled at the man. "Yeah, we are."

He grinned back at me. "My son went to school with him. Had him over to our house a couple times."

I nodded at him, and followed the kids up to the counter, where they were ordering already.

I loved living in a small town. You knew everybody, everybody knew you. It was a network of friends and family, and everybody was nice to you. Dad had been to a New Jersey city once, and he said that there, you never so much as looked strangers in the eye, let alone smile and start a conversation. Personally, I couldn't imagine that. I smiled at everybody, and they usually knew me, from the kids, or grocery shopping, or school.

Poor city people. I felt bad for them, not knowing the feeling of security coming from a small town.

Really, I read the police log for laughs. It was usually pretty funny. People didn't usually get arrested for anything serious. One time, I read that in a nearby town, some lady was drunk, sitting in the middle of the street at 3 am. The police should have ticketed her, but they decided to give her a break and just drive her home.

The lady got arrested for trying to make the cops go to a Taco Bell drive through.

That was about the worst it got around here.

I paid for the ice cream, and licking my chocolate cone, I pulled a pair of scissors out of my purse and began to cut open the toy boxes for the kids. I was always prepared.

While they ate and played with the new toys, I watched the story they were making. They liked to act out stories with the toys. Those kids had great imaginations. Right now, Ironhide and Jade were helping Barbie find her missing shoe, which had been stolen by the evil Ice Cream Sundae Monster Of Doom.

The brother-sister combination made me grin. Neo was a little more sensitive and polite than he would be, thanks to his sisters. On the other hand, he made them more violent than other kindergarten girls.

It was the same thing with age differences. He made them grow up faster, and Chloe and Alicea made him grow up a little slower.

It made me smile at the thought.

I was just glad that they had such a secure home to grow up in. It was perfectly safe here, with little to worry about besides having a golf club stolen by teenagers. I was grateful to Mom for convincing Dad to move to such a nice, safe town. Nothing bad ever happened here-

_BOOM!_

I heard an explosion from somewhere in the back of the shop. Oh no.

"KIDS, GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!" I screamed at them, my only concern for my little angels to get the heck out of here, because I could already smell smoke. Fire alarms were starting to go off.

They weren't moving, though. They seemed shell-shocked, unable to move. Flames were starting to lick around the edges of the counter.

I swooped down and snatched up Alicea. I shook Neo and yelled at him over the alarms.

"NEO! GET CHLOE!"

Something sparked in his eyes, and he grabbed his little sister's hand and yanked her out onto the street. I followed as fast as I could.

Outside, I started to wonder what exactly had happened. Maybe the air conditioner or something had gotten overheated.

Kneeling down, I took inventory of my little babies. Neo was putting on a brave face, but he looked shaken anyway. Alicea had started to cry, and Chloe was trembling. I held out my arms, and three scared kids immediately collapsed into them, with me hugging them as tight as I could. I never wanted to let them go.

We had to go to the hospital; the doctors were worried about how much smoke we had inhaled.

The kids were fine, but I, being taller, had to stay for a day or two. I had gotten the worst of it. I had them stay with a friend of mine, Faith, who knew them well and didn't mind watching them.

The next day, their house was bombed.

* * *

I missed them so with all of my heart. I felt empty now, without my siblings, by myself. I had no purpose, now that they had been torn away from me.

I wandered wherever my feet took me. I kept searching for people. Now, two years later, it seemed as if there were no humans left. I kept trying, though. I had to keep going.


	8. Chapter Eight History Vanessa

**A/N- I was about halfway done with chapter nine before I realized I forgot about Vanessa! I feel so bad…**

**Poor Vanessa. She was forgotten by her creator! I'm wallowing in guilt. =C**

**Oh, and the 'rut' cellar is actually a root cellar. My grandpa says it like rut. Rut beer, for example. C=**

Chapter Eight – History – Vanessa

I gripped the table tightly, trying to hold myself up. Standing was really hard. At least Mommy and Daddy didn't mind too much when I knocked over the furniture.

Especially since it took several books and a vase for me to get up this time. I was able to get fourteen steps before I fell down again; I was getting better.

Right as I was about to stand up again, I heard Mommy yell, and some banging. It sounded like somebody was hitting the front door.

I didn't have much time to wonder what was going on before Daddy ran in. He looked like he was scared, and bent down to pick me up. I liked it when he carried me. I always felt safe in Daddy's arms. He made the monsters go away, and he was really strong.

He was acting really weird today, though. He put me on his shoulders so his hands were free, and started looking through the kitchen drawers. He took some things from them, grabbed my feet, and ran out the back door, away from the awful banging noise.

I was glad. It was loud, and my head was starting to hurt.

I saw where Daddy was taking me. We were going to the rut cellar. I didn't know what a rut was, but Daddy always said rut. Mommy said root, but I liked rut better. It sounded funny.

It was where Mommy put all of our cans. They were filled with food, and Mommy said that keeping them in the rut cellar kept the food cold. I didn't understand why, just that it did.

Daddy opened the door, and pulled me off his shoulders. He looked at me, serious.

"Okay, sweetie, listen to me. You have to stay down here until Mommy or I comes and tells you to come out, okay? Don't let anybody else in. No matter what, do not let anybody else in here except for Mommy and I." I nodded.

Daddy handed me the things that he took from the kitchen. There was a little box with a cross on it and my set of silverware, which was just the right size for me, and had little dinosaurs on them.

There was also a pair of scissors, but I didn't take them. Mommy said scissors were dangerous and that I should never play with them. Daddy gave me a look and shoved them into my hands, making me take them.

"This box," he said, pointing to it, "has things in it in case you get hurt. Like Band-Aids."

I was excited now. "The Hello-Kitty ones?"

He nodded. "Yes, but don't use them unless you get hurt, okay?"

Darn. "Fine." I said. Daddy knew I liked Band-Aids. They were fun to put on, even if you didn't need them. I liked the way they looked.

Daddy gave me a gentle push, making sure I was in the darkness of the rut cellar. He stayed outside.

"Vanessa, stay quiet. Don't open the door for anybody. Stay here until we come back."

I was getting worried now. Exactly how long was I going to have to wait here?

"Daddy?"

He started to close the door, closing off the light. I was surrounded by darkness, no light to see by. I felt like I was suffocating. I was being smothered in the darkness. I was sure that there was monsters hiding in here, about to pounce on me. I couldn't see. I had to see! Where was I? Where was everything else? _I couldn't see anything!_

My voice got higher, frightened. "Daddy? Daddy! Where are you? _DADDY!"_

He didn't answer, and I stopped calling out. He had told me to be quiet, and to wait. That he'd come back. He'd probably be back in a few minutes, right? Soon. I wouldn't have to wait that long.

Wait in the darkness of the rut cellar, smothered by the lack of light.

* * *

I waited for a long time. I don't know exactly how long. Time didn't mean anything in the pitch- black of the rut cellar. I marked time in events.

Like when I grew to hungry to ignore, and I ventured into the dark rather than huddling by the door. I was able to find the food in the blackness, though, after a while. The juice it was canned in staved away thirst.

Or the time when slept in the middle of the cellar. Until then, I had always fallen asleep curled against the door, touching it at all times, assuring myself that I knew the way out.

Two things happened too slowly to notice, though. So slowly, that I didn't truly know when exactly they had taken place. First, I stopped fearing the dark. I wasn't scared of monsters anymore, and the black stopped smothering me. It comforted me now, like the blankie you hold close at bedtime.

Second, I started to see again.

I began to see in the dark. I don't know when it started, but the darkness was slowly getting brighter. Every time I woke up and opened my eyes, the rut cellar was just a little bit lighter and easier to see in than when I fell asleep.

I knew that it wasn't normal, but I didn't care. I welcomed being able to see again. It was nice to know what was around me.

Eventually, I developed a fasination for bugs too. I loved the way that their legs moved, the way they were so strong for something so small. I liked how spiders somehow knew how to make a web, and the how worms squirmed in my fingers.

I liked my bugs, but it had been a long time since Daddy left. I wondered where he went, and hoped he'd come back soon. I was little, but I knew he had been gone too long. I had mastered walking and outgrown my special fork and spoon. Maybe I had no idea how long it had been, but I knew it had been a very long time, and that Mommy and Daddy should have come back by now.

* * *

About three sleeps after my pet centipede, Pedey, died, I heard a noise at the door. I froze, like a deer in the headlights, then jumped up and ran to the door. Mommy and Daddy came back for me!

I tore the door open, to find myself face-to-face with a girl I had never seen before.

She was maybe fourteen, with an oval face, light brown hair, and green eyes. She was thin, but didn't look starved.

The girl seemed just as surprised as I was. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then finally spoke to me.

"Who are you?"

I decided I liked her. She seemed nice, and I didn't think Daddy's no-strangers rule applied anymore. I didn't know how much longer I'd have to wait for him, and I missed other people. I missed talking to them.

"Vanessa."

The girl gave me a small smile.

"I'm Eryn."


	9. Chapter Nine Present Time Encounter

**A/N- I am going to take a moment to say…. TODAY WAS MY FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL! Haha, I'm not telling what grade. I'm paranoid of creepers. I've met all my teachers, seen my friends again, contracted a **_**huge**_** headache, and immediately ran home to my beloved FanFiction. It's nice to be back in school. C= One thing I will miss about summer, the freedom to randomly skip around singing. If you sing at the top of your lungs in the middle of science class, well. **

**Then again, Spark said on .com, a whole math class started singing Bad Romance. She wants to try to get that going in our band class. Epicness if it works.**

**I'm rambling.**

**Okay, bottom line. I'm writing another chapter to celebrate my happiness. I hope school doesn't affect my already inconsistent updating, but I don't think it will. Let's begin!**

Chapter Nine – Present Time - Encounter

It had been two years. But I was getting along fine. I had lived on the streets, so this wasn't exactly new to me. After the first few months, the worst of it was over. By now, I questioned if there was anybody else alive other than me.

But that was okay. I wasn't much of a people person anyway.

I wasn't sure how much land I had covered by now, and I really didn't care. What I did care about was that I had found another city, and this one wasn't completely flattened. I stayed in the suburbs, though. No need to take risks. I was going to stay on the outskirts, and ensure myself a quick escape. Just in case.

I gave the door a light push. Evidently somebody had locked the grocery store. Peering in through the window, I saw bloodstains on the tiled floor. But there was still food in there. Canned food, which is probably how it lasted this long.

I quietly picked the lock. I slipped in, silent as a ghost. Yes, all the people were gone, but I had only survived for so long by being careful. I wasn't going to start taking risks now.

After so much practice, my footsteps were silent. I made no noise. I was about to inspect the food, see what was edible, when I heard a creak. I swung my head toward the noise, to see a door move open a few inches.

There wasn't a breeze; the air was dead. Which meant something else was here with me.

I slipped toward the door, cautious, my knife held ready.

* * *

I gradually became aware of something cold and hard being pressed against my neck.

I panicked, but didn't move. As much as I hated living like this, taking care of myself, sleeping in a _closet,_ I knew that it had allowed me to survive the apocalypse. I also knew that if whomever –or whatever- this was knew I was awake; there was a good chance I'd die.

I wasn't much of an actor, but I tried to keep my breathing even and slow.

"I know that you're awake. Just sit up. Nice and slow."

As I said, I wasn't much of an actor. I opened my eyes distrustfully, and slowly sat up.

The newcomer was older than me, maybe fifteen or so, about three years older than me. He was tall for his age, and muscular yet thin. His hair was dirty blonde, and a bit long, but not enough that it would get in his eyes, which were icy blue, and staring me down.

"Who are you?" He asked me, obviously wary. I was too, though. I hadn't seen another person in months. He probably hadn't either.

I pulled myself up straighter, and answered him.

"Acel. I'm twelve. You?"

He didn't move, but his eyes betrayed his surprise at my calm. Ha. It worked. If you show fear, the situation only gets worse.

"…Titus."

I smiled at him. He was like me, lucky. Survivors.

My grin unsettled him, and Titus growled at me.

"I'm going to leave you alive, seeing as you don't seem willing or even able to kill me." His eyes were hard and mean. "I'm going to fill my backpack with food, and leave. You are going to stay here, and go back to whatever you were doing before."

I nodded, fully intending to ignore what he said and follow him.

* * *

After three hours of walking, I decided that I'd put enough distance between 'Acel' and I. I was wary of him. He wasn't afraid of me, and he'd somehow survived this long, even if, with one glance, I knew for a fact that he wasn't capable of killing somebody.

The kid was scrawny, with messy black hair, a thin nose, and a general agile appearance, even if he clearly had never run in his life. I was willing to bet he was some snooty rich kid. Acel didn't have a muscle in his body. He'd probably be pretty fast if he tried, given his build, but I was willing to bet his largest workout ever had been pulling himself out of bed in the morning.

By now, I was walking on an abandoned highway. I walked to the side, finding a fairly nice sized bush in the thin shrubbery. It was thick enough to hide me from sight. I preferred trees, but I could hide anywhere. Practice, practice, practice.

I used my ever-useful knife to sort of cut a hole into the leaves. I took my time, being careful so that it wouldn't be visible to passerby.

Right. Don't want the ghosts to see me, do I?

After maybe ten minutes or so, I was almost done, and crawled in for the final touches. It was a sort of hallowed-out cave made by bending and cutting the branches just so. It was like a little leafy shrub igloo.

I set up camp, meaning I took out a blanket and set down my backpack. I didn't have much, and unpacking only to pack up again in a few hours was pointless and wasted time.

So, I pried open a can of what looked like green beans and helped myself. I wasn't picky, and the beans were still fresh. I must say, cans are lifesavers.

I wonder how that boy Acel had survived. He had no visible weapons, looked like a fragile little stick, and from the looks of it, hadn't been on the run, he'd hunkered down.

That was it. He hid the whole time. Found a quiet, out-of-the-way old shop, and hid there. He had the food, and maybe even a toilet; the staffroom had to have had one.

Of course, he was a kid. Made prefect sense. Strangely, during the 'end of the world,' the kids lasted the longest, fought the hardest. See, while adults were the 'smartest,' they really weren't.

Adults were usually very wrapped up in their own problems and didn't really notice what was happening around them until it came up and slapped them in the face. Working jobs, paying bills, and running families also tended to stamp most of their instincts out. Who needed old primal urges when you had a world of financial issues to deal with?

Kids were more attentive to what was going on. They still acted on impulses, and yet were old enough to think at the same time. So, they saw the signs, and hightailed it out of there as soon as they could. Of course, children can't very well take care of themselves, but that creativity kept them alive much longer. Kids like me, street kids, lasted longest as we were used to being on our own.

But Acel? He was some rich kid who couldn't run to save his life. I was frankly surprised that he had hung on so long, but I wasn't about to go teaming up with him. He would be a burden to me; I had to keep on the move. I didn't even know myself what I was looking for, but I felt empty; like something was missing. So I wandered wherever my feet took me.


End file.
